Help Me, Friend
by Vermion
Summary: Every throne has their enemies and animosities lurking in the shadows, waiting to strike. Unbeknownst to Kuzco, an arrogant, selfish, (and naïve) eighteen year old ruler of the Inca Empire, his life is put in serious danger when a mad plot threatens to destroy the emperor both physically and mentally. Warnings put before every chapter. Characters: Pacha & Kuzco


**This is an AU story, and so a lot of things that happened in the movie did not happen here (such as Kuzco turning into a llama), but the characters are still there. Also, I am going to keep everyone in-character as much as possible, but keep in mind that the movie was a comedy and meant for laughs, and so I am not going to make them act overly silly, such as Kuzco dancing and singing in his palace and so on. xD However, he still acts like himself, just the over-exaggerated cartoon & movie components (content and their over-exaggerated physical features) will not be found here, even though I will be keeping it as close as possible. Rating will go up later. **

**No warnings in this chapter! :)**

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It was a perfectly normal day for the regular peasants opening their doors wide to let in fresh air, or so it seemed. It seemed everything went along swimmingly as it should, people bustling by along the streets and chatting animatedly to one another. However, if one looked closer, something was slightly amiss. Well, for one person, at least. Shoulders slouched a little more than it should, eyes downcast and solemn, and no smile graced his lips as he dragged his feet along the dirt path.

Pacha sighed for the third time that day as he trudged up the slope where his hut sat precariously atop the hill. It was midday, but he had decided to return a little early after he checked up on the llamas. His back was still sore from yesterday's work; he'd offered to help his neighbour harvest his wheat and they'd managed to get through an entire field before the sun had begun to set. The hot, stifling air was beginning to suffocate him from all directions. He wiped a trickle of sweat from his forehead, and stopped by the pond to splash his face with water. Pacha stared dully at his rippling reflection. Another sigh began to rise from his throat.

His sore back wasn't the only reason why he felt so haggard. Recently, there had been an unusual lack of rainfall, to the point where people started to grow worried. The fields of crops that stretched out for miles had begun to shrivel and yellow, and each day passed by without a single drop of precipitation. It wasn't a terrible drought yet; they were able to manage quite a bit despite the difficulties, yet Pacha could notice the slight difference—sure to become bigger— in the amount of crops they produced this year from the previous ones. As the village leader, Pacha could only tell the other villagers to relax and that all would be fine soon, and smile a reassuring smile that he knew wasn't very reassuring.

And as for the lessening crop produce, apparently the higher-ups had noticed as well. This morning, Pacha had received a letter from the palace written in all nice formality and sophisticated print, basically threatening that if he didn't produce more crops quickly enough, then there would be severe consequences for his whole village. Also, he was to arrive at the palace tomorrow for a series of inquiries; Pacha knew this was another word for interrogation. Everyone under the rule of the Inca Empire knew that interrogation, under any circumstances, was not a pleasant thing. The letter, crisp and pristine, was signed by the Emperor himself.

Pacha's heart sank terribly as he remembered the lopsided signature. There was no way he could back out of this one, especially if the Emperor was involved. They would kill him for sure if he ignored this 'request'. Just how exactly was he supposed to ignore a direct order? He had never met this Emperor in person before; he knew that he must be young, but would he be cruel and relentless? Nice and caring? Strict and wise? He would find out tomorrow, but he didn't want to take any chances. He knew that a simple drought would not be an acceptable excuse for the low produce on crops. With a heavy heart, Pacha threw himself down on the grass behind his house where there was some shade.

Perhaps if he was a skinny, frail fellow, maybe the Emperor would take some pity on him. Unfortunately, Pacha was a tall, largely-built man with muscle rounding his bones. Years of hard work and farming allowed him to lose most of the excess fat, but anyone could look at him and see him as a healthy, well-fed villager. Nothing was working out for him.

Although, Pacha quickly reminded himself, there was no reason to get so worried. He had no idea how things would turn out, and maybe he could even be excused and sent back without any trouble. There was no point in worrying over things that he wasn't even sure of. It would all be revealed the next day, and Pacha would withstand anything for his family. Forcing his buzzing thoughts out of his head before he went crazy with anxiety, he got up and entered his house, grabbing a piece of bread from the table and munching on it heartily. Everything's going to be alright, he assured himself in his head. After all, it was the ruler of the whole Inca Empire; what sort of Emperor didn't care for his people?

He stretched and began to look for things to bring with him on his journey tonight.

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**I know it's barely nothing; it might seemed a little rushed and straight to the point, but better than wasting half a page droning on about on boring, irrelevant stuff that just makes you give up on reading. This is just a prologue type of thing; the next chapter will be longer, and better. Hopefully. I know it's still a bit boring so far, but even so; what do you think? :P **

**Reviews are loved! **


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